More Drama at the Service Center

It turns out that my tires actually did come in (see my previous post below) and so I had to return to the service center while the tires were installed. I estimated from past experiences that I could be waiting at the service center for anywhere between 3o minutes and one week--with a high probability that it would be closer to one week. My friendly service representative greeted me with a hearty "Howdy, Butch" and sent me into the waiting room.

The waiting room was actually better than most. It had a supply of food (free popcorn) and drink (a water fountain) so I knew that I would not be wanting for anything to eat or drink during the wait. In addition, there was a TV set that was already on. Two other people were in the waiting room and it looked like they had already gone through several bags of popcorn. Nobody appeared to be watching the TV, but I knew that the moment I moved over toward the remote to change the channel, someone would pop their head up and let me know that, hey, they were watching that show. So, I contented myself with my own bag of popcorn and sat back to see what the show was all about.

Here's the thing. I had no idea that there was a show about choppers. In fact, I only vaguely knew what a chopper was. But sure enough, here I was watching this show about them. First, the big mustached guy with tatoos...Big Paul, I think...would come on and explain that he had some family issues. Then they would show a clip of Big Paul yelling at Little Paul in the shop while they were supposedly working on their choppers. Next we'd see Little Paul explaining that, yeah, there had always been family issues and he knew that his mom loved him, but that Big Paul was a pain in the butt. Then the cameras would roll back to the shop where we would see Little Paul screaming at Big Paul. There were a couple of other guys in there as well, but I didn't really catch their names. I never saw anyone actually work on one of the motorbikes. However, I was thinking...do people really watch this stuff? Could it possibly be that they have made a whole show out of a family screaming at each other in a bike shop?

I moved over towards the remote and glanced at the other two people in the waiting room. They seemed to be engrossed in other things. But just as I reached to change the channel, another guy walked into the waiting room. He glanced at the screen and immediately said, "Oh, this must be one of the episodes where Big Paul and Little Paul were still working together...you know before they split up."

Across the room, one of the other men, who I had been sure was not paying attention. piped up, "Nah, this isn't a regular episode...just a special on the whole family."

"Yeah, that's right. I missed this the last time it was on."

And with that, the newcomer sat down next to me and, because I couldn't really think of a good excuse for getting up, we watched for what I am sure must have been several hours before my service representative saved me.

"Hey, Butch. You're all already to go. We've got the tires on, and remember you get free rotation for as long as you own the tires...and also, just for today, as a special treat for our loyal customers, we're giving out free copies of American Choppers, season two.

At the Service Center

I had one of those "guy" opportunities this week. It all started when my wife informed me that the car had failed inspection because the tires were bald. This bit of news was a little upsetting to me...as I believe it would be to any guy...because the car is practically brand new! Tires are supposed to last for 40 or 50 thousand miles, and we only have 20 thousand on the car. I know this for a fact because I actually checked the mileage. And, like any guy would do, I checked a few other things. Had the tires been rotated? Yes they had. Were they out of alignment? Didn't appear to be since they were worn down pretty evenly. I even kicked the tires a few times because that is what guys do when they don't know how else to fix something.

But I wasn't through with my investigation. When it comes to cars, guys do not give up easily. My next move was to take the car to the dealer and let them know that having my tires wear out with only 20,000 miles on the car was a bit of a disappointment. The service guy agreed with me that this was a little surprising. I think that's one of their regular training sessions probably entitled something like: "Techniques for Good Dramatics in Customer Relations." At any rate, he did an excellent job of acting surprised and then went right to his computer.

"Oh, here's the problem, Butch. You've got these extra high performance tires on your vehicle."

"The name's Bart, not Butch. And why would "high performance" tires be a problem? That's exactly what I'm looking for."

"Well, look here Butch. See? These tires don't come with any kind of tread-life warranty, and they are only rated to last for 15,ooo miles. Sounds like you actually got some pretty good wear out of those things."

Of course, I couldn't see at all what he was trying to show me on the screen, I was unconvinced that I had gotten 'some pretty good wear' out of the current set of tires, and I decided there was no point in pressing him on the Butch vesus Bart thing. I took a different tactic and asked another question.

"So, if these tires only last for 15,000 miles, why are they called "high performance" tires?

"Well Butch, these are high performance tires because they are built for speed and handling. Why you can do up to 190 mph safely with these babies on your car."

"I see...I've always wanted to do 190 in the family car. And we'd certainly want to be safe while doing it. I definitely see your point here. But, my wife, who uses this car much more than I do, mostly drives it in family neighborhoods and shopping malls. She typically tries to keep it under 100 mph. So, I'm wondering if you have some not-so-high-performance tires that we can get."

"That's gonna be tough. I don't know if they make anything but the high-performance type for this model of car. You can still drive the car slow, you know, with the high-performance ones on."

"Right, so how much would it be to replace these tires with the same ones we currently have?"

"Well Butch, that's the good news. They'd only be around $300 per tire."

I think at this point I might have whimpered quietly. Not something guys are supposed to do. When I had recovered a little, I asked, "Please, just to humor me, will you check to see if there are some lower performance tires available for this model of car?"

I wait patiently, trying not to whimper again, for several minutes while my service representative punches buttons on his computer and makes this face that says, 'You're gonna be sorry if you don't get the $300 tires.' But then a miracle occurs.

"Hey! What do you know. There is another type of tire we can put on your car, Butch. They are, however, a lower performance type. They may last a bit longer--they're rated for 30,000 miles--but you won't be able to control the car as well, particularly when you get her up over 100 mph. And the down side is that they're only rated for up to 150 mph."

"That's good to know. It will be a struggle, but I think we can manage to keep below the 150 mark. How much are they?"

"Only $200 per tire, and we'll give you free tire rotation for the life of the tires."

With the free tire rotation, and not wanting to further test my guy-ness limits, I agree to take the lower performance set.

"So you'll put them on today?" I ask in one last attempt at male domination.

"Now Butch. I'm doing my best for you. But, no, we won't be able to get them on today. I'll call you when the tires come in. It will probably be next week sometime...or maybe in July."